


Seeking Acceptance

by super_hero_lock (1DE3shipper)



Series: Bi!Dean [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Coming Out, Fluff, Gen, Homophobia, Homophobic John Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Protective Sam Winchester, Trigger warning for homophobic slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 02:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11841660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1DE3shipper/pseuds/super_hero_lock
Summary: 16-year-old Dean comes out as bi to his dad.  John doesn't react well.





	Seeking Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> I'm incapable of writing anything long, but I have lots of little ideas. 
> 
> If you like John/think he was a good father, this is NOT the fic for you...he's not painted in a very good light here.
> 
> Un-editied, because I'm impressed that I got this written at all 
> 
> Let me know what you think, and if you send me prompts I will try to fill them!

Dean had faced a lot of terror in his day–monsters, vengeful spirits, even a demon or two–yet none of those compared to the terror he felt hearing the motel door slam open and closed. He knew what he had to do, and really how hard could it be? It's not like he was the first teenager to be attracted dudes the same as girls, so it shouldn't be a big deal.

Dean knew that was a load of crap.

While John had never come out and said he was against gays, he had also given no indication that he was okay with them either, and Dean knew his dad came from a military background. The uncertainty was the hardest part. Dean hated feeling like he had to look over his shoulder constantly, lest his father catch him standing a bit too close to Derek or Andy or whoever he was seeing in that particular town. He just needed to know.

So there he sat, on a motel bedroom in an unknown town, Sam quietly working on his homework at the table, and suddenly faced with what he was about to do, Dean was afraid. But he was many things, and a coward wasn't one of them, so he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and stood up, creeping into the main room where his dad was taking his coat off.

"Good day, son?" John asked distractedly , not looking in Dean's direction. He did that a lot, these days. Dean tried not to let his father's lack of attention bother him–the man was busy, after all–but sometimes he longed for the days where his dad would come home after work and lift Dean into his arms with a smile and ask about all the child had gotten up to that day. Dean would laugh and describe in detail the race he had staged between his toy car and little army figure, and can we go play catch now daddy? And John would say yes, every time. Dean can't remember the last time John said yes.

"Umm, yeah actually there's something I wanted to tell you, sir," Dean spoke as calmly as he could given the circumstances, and he was pretty proud that he kept his voice even.

Clearly not sensing the nervousness in Dean's voice, or not caring, John barely acknowledged his son, only turning to grab the bottle of whiskey where he had left it last night. He took a drink straight out of the bottle before stopping to pour some into a glass. No matter how tight they were on money for food, John always seemed to be able to scrape together money for booze.

Just when Dean thought his dad hadn't heard him and started to retreat back to the bedroom, John set the now half-empty glass down and still without a glance in Dean's direction grumbled, "Well? Spit it out, boy."

Dean's throat went dry and he wiped his palms nervously on his pants again. He swallowed twice before steeling himself to look straight at his father.

"I'm...I'm bi."

There.

John was silent for a minute, two. He still wasn't even looking at him. Dean started to panic, what if this was a terrible mistake? How could he even begin to explain himself? What if John just didn't understand? Dean was rambling now, a tumble of explanations and excuses pouring from his mouth as he tried to get his father to say anything, _anything_.

"It's like both. Like, I still like girls and I'll date girls so you don't have to worry about that it just means that sometimes I want–"

"I know what the fuck it means, Dean," John snapped coldly, ending Dean's train of thought. "What I don't know, is why you seem to believe that it's okay? That it's normal? I won't have you running around with boys while I'm off working hard to take care of this family. This is NOT how I raised you!"

"Dad–"

"I did NOT raise either of my sons to be a goddamn QUEER."

And the way his dad said it, the finality of his statement, Dean knew left no room for argument or debate. So he hung his head, mumbled a "yes sir", and slowly shuffled back to the bedroom. He wasn't hiding, per say, but Dean knew that staying in the same room as his father at this point would be a mistake. No sooner than he clicked the door shut behind him did he hear the front door slam open and closed as well. It was probably for the best, after all. Instead of going back into the living area though, Dean curled up on his side of the queen sized bed he and Sam were sharing in this town and finally let fall the tears that he felt he'd been holding back for weeks.

He didn't know how long he laid there, it could have been minutes or hours since John stormed out, when Dean felt the other side of the bed dip.

"Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

"Is it dinner time?" Dean asked, starting to sit up. He was being immature, he knew. He had responsibilities, especially when dad was gone, and losing an argument was no excuse to shirk them. Besides, it wasn't like his dad had hit him.

"No," Sam shook his head. "I just didn't want you to be in here all alone. You're upset."

"I'm fine Sammy, go finish your homework. I'll get some pasta started for you."

"No," Sam said again, pulling Dean back down to the bed. "I need to tell you! I don't care if you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. You're still the best brother ever and I'm always gonna love you. I don't care what dad says."

Dean shook his head in disbelief and pulled his brother–his little brother, who was entirely too mature for his young twelve years–to his side in a hug. "You have no idea how much that means, Sammy," Dean whispered into his brother's hair. The tears were falling again, and Dean felt like he should be embarrassed by this display of weakness in front of his baby brother, but he can't bring himself to care. Because Sammy still loves him and after everything, that's enough for Dean.


End file.
